


May we meet again

by Of_Swords_and_Crowns



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:09:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26420017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Of_Swords_and_Crowns/pseuds/Of_Swords_and_Crowns
Summary: Geralt is at a loss when he loses Jaskier but what if it isn't the end of the bard's story? People who are destined to find each other always do.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

It was a warm day in spring when it happened. Jaskier was laying in Geralt’s lap, their hands intertwined while Geralt sang softly. He sang Jaskier’s famous songs but he also sang the songs Jaskier did when they were alone. They were surrounded by dandelions and buttercups in their garden, staring at the sky. 

Geralt searched for a way to end the inevitable but Jaskier wanted to leave on his own terms. Part of him wanted to give forever a shot, forever with Geralt. Or at the very least rub it in Valdo Marx’s face that Jaskier will be forever gorgeous and amazing. But whatever lay beyond was an adventure and Jaskier didn’t want to a monster that Geralt would one day have to hunt down.

“Geralt, we knew this day would come. We knew we didn’t have forever.” Jaskier paused and smiled. “I love that word, forever. We know it doesn’t exist, yet we have a word for it. We use it all the time. It’s beautiful and doomed. A reminder that one day it will be the end. The end of a chapter, of the whole book. ” And so there they were. Together, at the end of all things. 

“Be my hands when mine can no longer hold.” Jaskier raised their intertwined hands to kiss. “Be my voice when mine can no longer sing. Be my eyes when mine no longer see.” Jaskier turned his cornflower blue eyes to Geralt’s amber ones. “Be my heart when mine stops beating.” Jaskier had made Geralt promise to continue to live after he was gone but Geralt wasn’t sure how. 

Geralt knew it was time. Jaskier’s heartbeat shuddered under Geralt’s arm and so he talked. Of their life together, their adventures, their love. Geralt talked even as tears poured down his face. Geralt talked as Jaskier listened. Geralt talked as the end came. And Geralt talked as Jaskier died in his arms. Only then, when his heartbeat stopped, did Geralt fall apart. Only then did he wonder how he was going to cope without his music. He wondered how he would cope without his constant talking. He wondered how he would cope with the best parts of himself, without his world.

Geralt laid Jaskier to rest in their home. His lute clasped in his hands. With a final goodbye, Geralt cast igni and watched the house go up in flames. He waited until the roaring flames turned to mere embers before he walked away to find what this world had to offer now.

***

Weeks passed in a blur. Geralt didn’t keep track of them anymore. He picked up a contract, completed it and then collected money. Repeat and repeat. Geralt heard the whispers, “Where’s the bard?” some would say. Eventually Geralt turned to them. 

“Jaskier…died.” Geralt refused to let himself feel the pain of losing Jaskier. 

“Oh, umm. I’m sorry for your loss.” They would stutter in response and find something else to bother themselves with. 

And so it went for countless hunts, for countless days. Geralt tried to avoid taverns and inns. There was always some bard trying desperately to be the next Jaskier. They sung his songs but they lacked his energy, his passion or his smile. 

Winter was colder than it ever has been. Kaer Morhen was silent, filled with the ghosts of the past. Eskel and Lambert were planning to spend the winter but a storm had them waylaid. Ciri had plans and sent an apology via Yennifer. 

“You don’t have to stay, Yen.” Geralt stared into the flames.

With a sigh, she sat next to him. “Yes I do. You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

Geralt nodded his thanks. “I’m not alone. I have Roach.”

Yennifer smiled and laid her head on his shoulder. The smell of lilac and gooseberries filling the air. “No Geralt. You need a friend.”

And that’s how they spent the night. Staring into the flames till the fire died down to mere embers. Sleep eluding them. It was Geralt who first broke the silence. He talked of Jaskier. Of the pain of simply living in a world without him. Of how much he missed his endless talking and singing. Yennifer didn’t say a word. Simply being there for someone she called a friend, although they once were much more. 

Eskel and Lambert arrived, bringing the storm with them. The huge ornate door slammed open, inviting the bitter chill inside. Before Jaskier, Geralt was often withdrawn at their winter gatherings, moody and sullen at other times. With Jaskier he was like a different person, open and he even smiled. But now, Eskel and Lambert had to get used to a different Geralt. They would often find Geralt simply staring in the nothingness, a sad smile on his lips and tears in his eyes. Ever since Vesmir got killed on a contract gone badly, they could feel Geralt slowly withdrawing from them all, even Ciri. 

And so the winter was like so many before and most likely like so many to come. They drunk, traded jokes and some stories, though they avoided tales of the bard. Yennifer soon excused herself, important business or something to attend to in Novigrad. Eskel and Lambert tried to involve Geralt but eventually he wandered off, alone in his thoughts. 

Geralt soon found himself outside the room that he used to share with Jaskier. He stood by the door, wondering and with a sigh he entered. The room was exactly as he left it. The faint scent of Jaskier’s shampoos still lingered. Geralt closed the door and sank to the ground, not bothering to light a fire. Surrounded by bitter memories of Jaskier, Geralt talked. He talked to the memory of him. He talked and pretended that Jaskier was there to listen. 

“Should I tell you that, your body comes back to me in dreams? That when I sleep I see you. 

The scars you try to hide from everyone but me. Your blue eyes staring into mine. Should I tell you that when I wake, I still feel you? That I expect to open my eyes and see you. See your smile. Hear your laugh. That I feel your phantom touch of your hand in mine. It’s not fair how much I miss you. It’s not fair, ‘cos you make me ache you bastard. Should I tell you that for a few moments, I hold my breath and hold on to that moment? That I would give anything to be back there with you, in a dream, in a thousand places, nowhere at all?” 

Geralt half expected Jaskier to reply but he remembered. Jaskier died. He died and Geralt is at a loss.


	2. Chapter 2

Another contract in a small town. Geralt didn’t pay much attention to the name but he wished he had. Posada. The town where he first met Jaskier. Even now, Geralt smiled at the memory. He just wanted a drink but instead he got a bard. A bard with terrible pick lines, disastrous fashion sense and a constant tune. He stopped counting the days spent without Jaskier but some days it felt almost easier. But other days it felt like he was drowning. Like the pain and memories were close to taking him under and it took everything he had to stay afloat. Luckily, it wasn’t one of them days. But things weren’t easy.

The contract was for a rest of drowners that were causing trouble for the fishermen and locals. Geralt armed himself with his silver sword and several bombs before heading for the lake. The trek to the lake was filled with villagers which looked at him with fear or curiosity. Geralt was used to the stares and more often, them throwing things. Things were better when Jaskier’s ballads became famous but now people seem content to return to how things were. 

Geralt cleared the corpus of trees and smelt rotting fish which alerted him to the presence of the drowners. The ugly creatures had surrounded a villager and more were swarming towards him. Drowners may not be hard to kill but a pack of them is troublesome. 

Without thought, without hesitation, Geralt charged in. Drawing his silver sword, Geralt slashed at the drowners and advanced towards the villager. He was dispatching the drowners with expertise and soon there was a growing pile of their corpses at his feet. They attempted to overwhelm him with sheer numbers alone but still Geralt fought on. Protecting the civilian behind him. 

It took a minute for the haze to clear. And when it did, Geralt realised he must look quite terrifying. Covered in drowner guts, his black eyes and toxicity marks, it was a wonder the civilian didn’t run from him. No, instead he stepped forward straightening his doublet and picked his lute from the ground. 

“Ahh, well. I guess that old folktale is wrong. They definitely don’t look like drowned men. Thank you for saving me. I assume you’re the Witcher they hired?” That voice so familiar. He stepped forward and for a moment, Geralt could swear he stopped breathing. Achingly familiar cornflower blue eyes stared into his amber ones. 

“Jaskier.” Geralt’s voice barely a whisper.

“Sorry, I think you’ve confused me with someone else. My name is Jacek.” Not Jaskier announced with a bow. 

“Right, of course.” Geralt started to trek back to the village. 

“Ah. Need a hand? I won’t be but a silent back-up. Maybe real adventures would make better stories. I could write my own instead of singing another’s. You, sir, smell of death and destiny. Heroics…” Jacek broke off with a yelp as he tripped over a rock.

“and heartbreak.” Geralt finished with a smile. 

“Well, yes. How did you know I was going to say that?” He wondered. 

Geralt turned and searched Jacek’s eyes for even the slightest spark of recognition. Finding none, he sighed. “No.”

“Witchers have a bit of an image problem, right? I can help with that.” Jacek seemed to think for a minute. “Though there was that one bard that wrote songs about Witchers. What was his name? Valdo Marx! No that’s not right.” Jacek continued to mumble to himself for a while. 

“Jaskier.” Geralt spoke quietly. 

“Hmm, yes! That was the name. Wait, didn’t you call me Jaskier back there?”

“Yes.” Geralt didn’t look back though he made sure to focus his attention on the bard’s movements in case he needed help. 

“Man of few words. I can work with that. Wait… white hair, two very, scary looking swords. I know who you are. You’re the Witcher from the ballads. You’re Geralt of Rivia. Called it.”

“I’m not looking for company.” Geralt was harsh but he couldn’t lose another Jaskier. 

“Few people are and even fewer know if they are.” Jacek spoke cheerfully as he finally managed to catch up with Geralt. “You know, I could just follow you and if I die along the way… well you only have yourself to blame.”

That stopped Geralt. Maybe his staying away would be Jacek’s undoing. “Fine.” He growled but secretly he was happy to have Jaskier’s company again, even if it wasn’t entirely him. He would let the bard follow for a week or so, tell him tales of his adventures then send him on his way. He wasn’t going to lose another Jaskier but at least this way, Jacek gets to have a life. A life away from the dangers of travelling with a Witcher.

One month later…

Okay so maybe Geralt didn’t send Jacek away. Maybe in that week, he remembered what loving Jaskier felt like. The endless talking and a constant tune or song on the breeze felt like home. He allowed himself to think about the future and what it would mean for them. 

The contract was for a bruxa terrorising the outskirts of the village. Jacek wanted to tag along despite Geralt insisting for him to stay at the inn. 

“How can I create amazing ballads if you insist on keeping me away from the action?” Jacek complained as he saddled his horse that Geralt bought for him several contracts ago. 

“Fine but don’t get in my way.” Geralt grumbled as he climbed on Roach. The real meaning hidden behind a grumble and a scowl. 

***

“Stay here.” Geralt whispered as he drew his silver sword and crept through the underbrush. He spied a bruxa and could hear the beginnings of their song. He sighed, this would be easy as long as the bruxa was alone in the nest. Geralt cast Quen to counteract the creature’s screech. 

He parried and struck the bruxa. Crunch! Leaves and branches cracked behind them. “I thought I told you to stay.” 

“You can’t tell me to stay all the time. Besides I thought you had it handled.” Jacek countered as he chose a spot some ways away.

“You can’t get hurt.” Geralt said. 

“So very talkative Witcher.” The bruxa growled. 

Geralt wasn’t prepared for the creature’s screech which sent him hurtling back. 

“Jaskier!” Geralt yelled as the bruxa advanced towards him. They have done this before, Jaskier would turn and grab the sword Geralt would throw at him. But he realised too late, this wasn’t his Jaskier. 

Jacek jumped away from the swinging sword and right into the bruxa’s path. Geralt didn’t breathe as he rushed forwards. The creature let out a piercing scream and he barely managed to cast Quen before the blast sent him flying. He only had to watch in horror as the bruxa tore into Jacek. His blue eyes staring into Geralt, filled with hurt and betrayal. Geralt stumbled forward and caught Jacek’s body just before it fell. Rage filled him and while the bruxa advanced, Geralt looked for his silver sword. He leaped to the side. The bruxa leaped after him. Geralt grabbed his sword and turned at the perfect time. The creature ran itself onto the sword. 

“This is for Jaskier.” He growled. He pulled the sword out and swiftly cut off its head. Geralt fell to his knees beside Jacek’s body. He couldn’t save him.

He had lost Jaskier again. Not to old age this time but due to his own stupidity. He forgot that this Jaskier hadn’t been with him for years. No this Jaskier didn’t know Geralt’s moves before he made them or how to wield a sword and in the end it was Geralt’s fault. Always his fault. He should have walked away. He should have left the bard behind. He didn’t need anyone and the last thing he needs is someone needing him. 

He needed some time. To grieve once again. The coast. That’s where he will go. He and Jaskier would sometimes go there. Get away for a while.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm Chaotic-fae-queen on Tumblr, come and say hi!


End file.
